Fear Me Love Me
by Eradicated Illness
Summary: DISCONTINUED
1. AU 12 1

Hiya y'all! I am starting yet another Gundam Wing Heero/Duo fic! Yay! Also, I want you all to know that Dangerous Protections hasn't been abandoned. My stupid compy ate the file for the third chapter and I have to rewrite everything I had on it so far. Grr. it makes me angry. I had three full pages on that disk! Also it takes a while to write the chapters because they ARE like 10 to 12 pages each and that takes a while. Grr. O and Journal, Journal, On the Wall, Who Will Love Me Most of All? is having a second chapter written nearly as we speak, er. type. That fic is kinda weird. O well.  
  
Anyway, this fic is totally AU and most likely OOC (I can't tell really, I can kinda get their characters right but then they do stuff they would never ever do, go figure). And I should warn you now there will be NO lemon. So if that's what you're waiting for then leave because you aren't getting one. But there will be some lime *wink wink* I don't know how much yet tho. Hopefully a lot. So keep tuned! ~^-^~  
  
~`~  
  
Heero paced back and forth. His midnight blue tunic annoyed him with its velvety texture. The soft silkiness of the creamy white shirt he wore under the tunic made barely a sound as he moved. His fingers worried at the lace on the cuffs. The white hose shone too brightly for his liking and the pointed-toe slippers constantly made him stumble. How he hated formal attire.  
  
And how he hated formal occasions, balls especially. He was expected to mingle with all his father's friends' simpering youngsters. If it wasn't the girls fluttering around him trying to catch his eye, it was the young men telling him stories of great hunts they had participated in and bragging about their great treasures. At least Quatre would be there.  
  
Quatre was the youngest and only son of a local noble family. At birth he had been promised to serve the king and his wishes. As soon as he turned fifteen, he had been packed off to the castle with all his most precious belongings. The king, Treize, having nothing better to do with the boy, had given him to his youngest-and favorite-son, Heero. He was to serve Heero as he would have served his king. That was just over a year ago and the two, Quatre and Heero, had a shaky friendship at best and neutrality at worst. And since he was the son of a noble family, he would have the privilege of attending the ball, even if the main reason for his presence was to serve Heero. Heero, by nature, wouldn't need much and Quatre could get in his share of mingling as well.  
  
Heero continued to pace, waiting for Quatre to finish dressing. Wufei eyed him languidly from a chair, where he perched.  
  
Wufei was Heero's other servant, though he was mostly a bodyguard. However, unlike Quatre who technically could leave whenever he wanted- though woe be on him when he did, for his family would be the laughingstock of the kingdom-Wufei didn't have that privilege. He was a slave, a fact he was none too proud of and very touchy over. Born into slavery, he would be a slave for the rest of his life, unless Treize said otherwise. And Treize wouldn't say otherwise because he didn't feel like finding someone good enough to replace him. Wufei was a martial arts master, having been trained for bodyguard duty since he could walk. Being a bodyguard/servant to Heero gave him some rank among the other slaves and even among some of the servants. But that fact didn't give him any peace about his slavery. Nothing did.  
  
His nearly black eyes watched Heero pace back and forth, following his every move. As much as he hated being enslaved, he didn't want anything to happen to Heero (or heads, mainly his, would roll), even though he knew Heero could take care of himself to a certain degree. Wufei was training Heero himself, just in case Heero needed to protect himself when no one else was around and/or Wufei had been incapacitated. Wufei would also be attending the ball, except he would cling to the shadows, dressed in black, and watch for secret assassins and whatnot. He would not be allowed to participate in any of the goings-on.  
  
Quatre finally came out of the room he and Wufei shared, dressed in a pale turquoise. He smiled happily. He loved occasions such as the one tonight. Heero didn't bother to look at his blond friend. He strode out the door, passing Rashid and two of the Maganacs (who came as a package deal with Quatre) who guarded Heero's door, with the two following in his wake. He managed not to trip over his slippers and grumbled to himself with a dark look. Tonight was not going to be pleasant.  
  
They arrived at the ballroom, which was a good ways from Heero's royal suite, and walked in the door just as everyone was seating themselves for the banquet. Wufei immediately separated himself from the other two boys and slunk into the shadows. Heero stalked towards the head table, where a seat next to his father was waiting for him. Being the king's favorite son, he was granted any number of privileges, most of which he didn't want and didn't enjoy. One of which was taking his elder brother's place on his father's left. The misplaced Aiko was second in line for the throne, and by right should have been on his father's left. He distrusted and disliked Heero for that reason. Heero's eldest brother, Chieko, sat at Treize's right hand, having taken his mother's place when she died a few years earlier. Both older princes featured their father's golden brown hair and sharp chin. Heero, however, was the only one to take after their mother. Her messy chocolate brown locks rested upon his head now. His deep cold blue eyes were nearly the same as hers had been, excepting the warmth that used to reside within hers. Heero's looks may have been why his father favored him, even above his oldest son. Great pains were taken to make sure of his happiness and health, and, though he was always very healthy, he was never very happy. At the most, which was rare, he was slightly more than content with life.  
  
Quatre stood still behind Heero, with his fingers laced behind his back. He eyed the buffet table against the back wall. He wouldn't be allowed to eat from it himself until Heero no longer needed him.  
  
Heero signaled Quatre to bring him a plate of whatever from the extensive buffet table. Quatre, knowing the prince's likes and dislikes, was able to bring him back a plate that should please him. Heero pushed the food around a bit and told Quatre that he could eat now, as he wouldn't be needing him for a while.  
  
Heero continued to push his food around with his fork lazily. Trying to ignore everything around him, he let everything blur from his senses and concentrated on the design in his plate until someone took the utensil out of his hand. He looked up and Treize put the fork down beside Heero's plate.  
  
"You're being rude to our guests, Heero, why don't you go greet them?"  
  
More time had lapsed since the banquet began than Heero had thought. Most of the guests had finished eating and the younger ones were gathering in the center of the ball room floor, waiting for the music to begin and filling up their dance cards. A few spotted him looking and waved him over. Heero sighed and pushed his chair back, bumping into Quatre who must have rejoined him a while back, and stalked onto the dance floor with Quatre practically running to keep up. One girl with long honey blond hair hurried towards them, nearly shoved Quatre aside, and tried to link arms with Heero. He firmly resisted.  
  
"Heero! How nice it is to see you again." She fluttered her eyelashes at him. "I'm terribly sorry about what happened!" One flying teapot had helped Heero narrowly avoid an alliance marriage with the vapid, shallow girl.  
  
Heero sighed and prepared himself for one horrible night.  
  
~`~  
  
Duo strode nonchalantly down the street, humming an old song he couldn't remember the words to. He tipped his cap to a well-dressed lady and snickered when she huffed in surprise. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his extra large overcoat, underneath which his long braid was tucked, and whistled a different tune, a funeral dirge that went quite well with the grumbling in his stomach.  
  
Duo frowned. He hadn't eaten in. two days he counted on his fingers. His finger-less gloves were a faded brown in color and worn in a few places. He wondered if the whorehouse, named 'The Callow Fox,' missed him yet. He was yet again trying to run away. He legally belonged to the Callow Fox and legally they could do whatever they wanted with him. So he was trying to make it to another country. If only he could get out of the capitol.  
  
He'd been wandering around the city, King's Town, for a day and a half, trying to figure out how to get past the gates without being seen. The walls were too high, too smooth, and too heavily guarded to climb over. He couldn't leave through the gates legally without papers showing that he was allowed to leave, for the mark branded on the back of his left hand proved to anyone who cared to look that he belonged to someone else and therefore had no personal rights. He was, in fact, breaking the law by covering it with a glove.  
  
Duo passed by a bread stand, just closing for the night, and snatched a loaf of stale bread while the owner of the stand was turned around. Duo quickly shoved the bread into his coat and shuffled quickly away, grinning as he pulled his cap down low over his eyes.  
  
Then someone grabbed his arm, his coat flew open, and the bread fell out onto the street, only to be rubbed into the cobblestones by a foot stepping on it.  
  
"Hey! I stole that fair and square, buddy!" Duo complained loudly. He looked up at his captor and froze. It was Marc, one of the more prominent grunts who did security work at the Callow Fox. Duo swallowed. He swallowed again. "U-uh," he stuttered, his voice suddenly high-pitched, "Hi. Marc. I was just, ah, heading back, ah, yeah."  
  
The grunt grunted and pulled the much smaller boy behind in his wake. "Hey! Leggo!" Marc stopped and, grasping Duo's left wrist, wrenched off the glove so as to reveal the brand of slavery. He let go of Duo and backhanded him across the face for his impertinence. Duo fell back onto the cobblestones, scraping the palm of his left hand. Marc grabbed him again and dragged him back to the Callow Fox. Duo protested the whole way, and tried to bribe his way out of Marc's grasp.  
  
In front of the Callow Fox, a building that looked quite well off and pleased with itself in a smug sort of way, an ebony black and gold gilded carriage sat waiting with two black stallions hitched to the front.  
  
Jandan, the owner of the Callow Fox, stood by the carriage with a small bag at his feet. As soon as he saw Marc with Duo in tow, he rushed towards them with the bag and shoved it into Duo's hands. A lump of fear grew in Duo's throat, preventing him from speaking. Jandan took his arm and pulled him towards the carriage. Duo climbed shakily inside and sat with three big burly, strong men, each easily twice his size, done out in black and gold livery. The door closed behind him, leaving him in near darkness with the three strangers. The carriage started moving, and for a moment Duo lost his mind in fear. He smashed himself into the door, frantically trying to get out, but one of the men took hold of his shoulder and slammed him back into his seat. Duo whimpered, terrified.  
  
"You belong to King Treize now. You will never see this place again." One of the men grunted. Duo suddenly felt sick. *Jandan finally sold me.* 


	2. AU 12 2

Hiyas! I hope you liked the first chapter. I did! I liked it so much I'm writing a second chapter when I should really be writing Dangerous Protections. Don't worry, I'll write that too sometime.  
  
Well anyway, I bet you've noticed that Trowa wasn't in the last chapter. That's because I don't know where to put him in the story. Somehow he ends up working for Heero like everybody else. At first, I thought to make him be part of the Callow Fox (ya know, that whole mercenary thing that happened to him) but then I decided that wasn't for him. I can't just kick him out of the story because then who will Quatre love? This is where I really need your help, guys. Give me ideas about what to do with Trowa (where he came from, what he does for Heero, et cetera) and I will reward you greatly by mentioning your name on that chapter and begging my readers to check you out (if I use your idea or part of it). Ta ta!  
  
~`~  
  
Duo recovered from his fear rather quickly when none of the men moved. He relaxed a bit and leaned back against the side of the carriage to think. Glancing out the window, the carriage proved to be moving at great speed and the castle, though still far away in the center of the large city, was looming larger and larger. Duo considered his predicament with a practical eye.  
  
*So the king owns me now. Huh, from what I heard he sounds pretty nice. Maybe he'll be gentle.* He silently prepared himself for whatever was coming.  
  
When they arrived at the castle, the carriage didn't stop at the main door. It continued around until they found a small side door that opened into a garden. The three men in black and gold livery hustled him inside. They passed multitudes of corridors and rose up several flights of stairs. Finally, they stopped in front of a door guarded by a large burly man and two slightly smaller ones.  
  
Jostling him slightly, Duo's three captors handed him over to the new men, who hustled him through the door, and quickly left. Duo stood in front of the larger man, nervous under his severe gaze. One of the other men handed their superior a clipboard, a pen, and a piece of parchment with writing all over it.  
  
"You are Duo Maxwell?"  
  
"Yes," Duo said, and with an afterthought added, "sir. But I also go as Bitch, Little Brown Mare, Violet, Slim Jim-"  
  
"That's enough," the burly man said in agitation, "Your age?"  
  
Duo scratched his head, a habit of his when thinking. "Well, now, I've always assumed I was somewhere around fifteen or sixteen, but I could really be anywhere between fourteen and eighteen. I can't remember much beyond ten years ago. It all gets kinda fuzzy. But ya know, there was that lady with the smile-"  
  
"Parentage?" the large man grumbled.  
  
"What are ya doing, writing up a pedigree for me?" Duo peered questioningly at the men.  
  
A nod from the large man made the moment awkward, during which Duo was prodded to answer his question.  
  
"Parentage? You mean like who are my parents? Well how am I supposed to know? It's not like I ever met them." Duo crossed his arms over his chest. The man looked at the piece of parchment. Then he showed it to Duo.  
  
"It says here that you were born to this lady and this lord. . ." he droned on, pointing to names and reading them aloud. Duo scratched his head some more and studied the names as they were read (apparently they detailed his entire heritage), peering at the page curiously. He had never heard of all these people. ". . . and that you date back to this ancient king-" When Duo heard the king's name he leaned back and crossed his arms again.  
  
"Now I happen to know for a fact that that guy never existed. I made him up myself. And he isn't a king either; he's a baron who was born into slavery and has no idea of the wealth he's inherited. . ." It was a fantasy of Duo's, one in which he, represented by the baron, found out that he was worth much more then somebody's slave, than somebody's whore. It was a fantasy that was never to happen.  
  
The large man looked outraged. "Damn that Jandan! He told us you were worth something! Him and his damn no refunds policy!"  
  
Duo shrunk back, feeling small and helpless. "Hey," he said in a small voice, "I'm worth something. . ."  
  
The man glared at him furiously. "What, pray tell, are you worth then?"  
  
"Well," Duo said weakly, "My standard is ten jules a night. . ."  
  
"Ten jules? We could get any whore for ten jules! Oh, god, what is the king going to say?"  
  
Duo didn't say anything.  
  
The big man calmed down a bit. "We'll deal with this later. Men, get him measured up."  
  
The two other men took measuring tapes out from somewhere and advanced on Duo. Before he could think he had been stripped down to the black linen shorts he used as underclothes. They measured the lengths of his legs, arms, fingers, head, braid, and et cetera. They recorded everything down on the parchment. Meanwhile, the large man began to speak.  
  
"I'm Rashid, the head of the Maganacs. These two are part of the Maganacs. . ."  
  
Duo found his attention wavering. A hand between his shoulder blades, however, quickly brought him back. Rashid pushed him towards a door in the back of the posh room.  
  
"Go to bed, through there." Rashid and the Maganacs turned to leave through the door they came in by.  
  
"Hey," Duo turned around, "Are these the king's rooms?"  
  
Rashid scowled. "Of course not. Do you think he would waste his time with you, especially now that you've been proved to be worthless?" They went out the door, leaving Duo alone with his grumbling stomach.  
  
The room was nice, a little too nice, in fact, much too nice. *Much too nice to waste on a worthless whore like me. This is suspicious, but,* he yawned, suddenly realizing his fatigue, *I'm too tired to do anything about it.* He trudged through the door that had been indicated as a bedroom. He completely forgot about his old clothes, which the Maganacs had taken with them, and forgot for a moment that he was worthless, and he fell into the extra large bed he found in the middle of the room. Curling the blankets around him, Duo fell fast asleep in a cocoon of warmth and softness for the first time in his relatively short life.  
  
~`~  
  
Heero gladly rushed back to his room when the ball ended at midnight. Quatre and Wufei followed him, allowing him a few feet of distance for him to calm down in. Heero hadn't danced all night, not that there weren't an adequate amount of partners throwing themselves at him, and he wanted to sleep during the few hours when no one was allowed to bother him, lest Relena, the blond girl he had recently avoided marrying, come knocking with her multitudes of trivialities.  
  
Rashid saluted Heero as he stalked through the door. Without bothering to say goodnight to Wufei and Quatre-who exchanged worried glances-he went directly to his bedroom and shut the door tightly behind him. He didn't bother to light the room while he stripped and changed into dark forestry green pajamas.  
  
Heero stretched a bit, working muscles that had sat idle during the ball loose. He sat down on the edge of the bed and let his toes sink into the thick rug.  
  
What he didn't expect, when he stretched out an arm to gather the blankets, was to find a ball of human warmth. What he didn't expect, when he accidentally touched the ball of human warmth, was for it to scream.  
  
~`~ 


	3. AU 12 3

Hi again!  
  
How's life y'all? Note my false southern accent. Blah blah blah. Heh heh heh *shifty eyes*  
  
So anyway  
  
This chapter is here yay!  
  
So, the Trowa problem. See he's got to work personally for Heero so that he doesn't have to quarter with the standard castle servants and slaves. And he can't be a slave, because he's going to be rooming with Quatre. . .  
  
OOO OOO IDEA IDEA!!! okay so now I know how he gets into the story (sorry no spoiler) I just need to know what he does, though I have a faint idea I would like your suggestions anyway. SO what does he do? It's gotta be PERSONAL, ya know, like how Wufei is his PERSONAL bodyguard/slave, Quatre is his PERSONAL servant, and Duo is his PERSONAL whore (even if Heero doesn't treat him like one, it's still his job title).  
  
So I'll write the fic now.  
  
~`~  
  
Heero jumped back when the ball of warmth screamed, completely startled. It was bloodcurdling, like Death itself. Something crashed into something else, but the screaming continued. Heero put his hands over his ears to protect them.  
  
The door burst open and Wufei charged through, instinctively throwing himself in front of Heero. Rashid followed with a few of the Maganacs and turned on the light. The newly-installed electric lights took a moment to flutter into life, but when they did, they showed a mess. The screaming died to a whimper and large purple-blue eyes, dark with fear, peered out at the scene, blinking at the sudden light and watering slightly. A small thin form, belonging to the eyes, lay tangled among two chairs, one of which had two legs broken, on the floor and tangled in one of Heero's dark blue sheets, which was ripped in several places, a few of them showing off bits and pieces of pale skin. A few bruises were forming here and there. At first, Heero thought it was a girl because of the long braid and large eyes, but when Rashid pulled the figure out of the mess, it proved to be a boy evidenced by the flat chest, which could only be seen because the boy was only wearing a pair of small black shorts.  
  
Heero blinked as Rashid grabbed the boy's shoulders and began to shake him relentlessly, apparently not pleased, pointing to the damage and yelling at him. The boy started crying in fear and pain when Rashid backhanded him into a wall. He crumpled to the floor and huddled against the wall, softly wailing something about not knowing he was going to be servicing tonight and that these were the Prince's rooms (even though he had suspected that they were much, much, much too nice for a worthless whore like him). Rashid was about to backhand the boy again when Heero raised a hand, motioning him to stop.  
  
Heero pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to fight back the headache that was coming on. He sighed.  
  
"Look, I've had a long night and I just want to sleep. Rashid, leave. Wufei, go wake up Quatre if this baka's screaming hasn't woken him up yet, and give the boy to him to take care of tonight. I don't want anyone to bother me until noon tomorrow when I shall want some answers." He sighed again and climbed into the large bed, not caring that the blankets were partially ruined. "Well, don't just stand there. Move!" They all filed out, Wufei dragging the boy ahead of the others.  
  
Heero settled back into the pillows as the lights were turned off and the door shut tightly. He rolled on his side, doubting he would get much sleep right away. He prepared himself for his usually dreamless sleep and slowly drifted off.  
  
~`~  
  
Duo smarted from the abuse he had taken in the bed chamber and wondered if he should just kill himself and get this living business over with. His decision was made up for him however as the one called 'Wufei' dragged him by the arm into a separate chamber that he hadn't noticed before because the door was built into the paneling. Duo sniffled and tried to hold back more tears (rather unsuccessfully). Wufei mercilessly flung him down onto the floor. Duo whimpered fearfully.  
  
Then soft hands took Duo's arms and helped him up. "Wufei! That's inhumane! Stop torturing people like that!" The boy, though he might be called delicate by some was in no way as small as Duo was due to having meals all his life and a warm safe place to sleep, was yelling at Wufei, a bronze- skinned, black-haired boy with a hard and elegant face. The kind boy had bleach blond hair and gentle aquamarine eyes. He smiled and his entire being projected friendliness and goodwill. Duo's fears subsided just a little.  
  
"Hi there," the kind boy said gently, sitting them both down on his ruffled bedding. "My name is Quatre, and, well, that's Wufei." He pointed at the black-haired boy, who sneered. "What's your name?"  
  
"D-duo." Duo stuttered. Wufei snorted and Duo, startled, jumped away from him and clung to the wall, eyes wide. Quatre quickly put himself in between the two boys, making sure Duo was looking into his eyes and not at Wufei.  
  
"Ignore him, Duo. He's just trying to scare you." Duo calmed a bit under Quatre's influence. "So why are you here? Did the Prince request you?" Quatre made his tone as gentle and caring as possible.  
  
"I'm," Duo looked away from Quatre, to his left. He hated saying it, "I'm a whore."  
  
Quatre's face reddened and he coughed into his hand. "Uh, well, I knew that, judging by what you're wearing. . ." He was very surprised when Duo didn't seem embarrassed.  
  
"Yeah, well, I'm used to it," Duo plucked at the shorts he used for underclothes, "Jandan liked these. I bet he's wishing he could still do me."  
  
Quatre coughed again uncomfortably. He yawned, remembering his fatigue. Wufei was already in bed snoring softly.  
  
"Well, Duo, why don't you take my bed tonight, and I'll sleep on the couch. We'll get you all sorted out in the morning."  
  
Duo nodded. He crawled under the blankets while Quatre left the room and turned out the lights, leaving the door open a crack behind him.  
  
He snaked a hand behind his back to check on his scraggly braid and the cross woven into it. They were his most precious items. He closed his eyes, praying that the boy in the next bed wouldn't kill him during the night, and went to sleep.  
  
~`~  
  
Duo woke to Quatre's smiling face. Tentatively he smiled back.  
  
"Good morning, Duo!" he chirped brightly.  
  
"Morning. . ." Duo mumbled before snuggling back down into the pillows. Sometime during the night he had rearranged the blankets and pillows into a nest-like area. He was curled in the middle of it, kept warm by the heat the nest trapped.  
  
"Rise and shine, Duo!" Quatre dragged the half-asleep boy out of the nest.  
  
"'S'too urly ta ge'up. . ."  
  
"It's the perfect time to take a bath!" The blond was way too cheery for this early in the morning, which, judging by the window, was about dawn.  
  
That snapped Duo awake.  
  
"Bath!? Like bathtub style?" Duo's eyes widened.  
  
Quatre nodded. Duo's eyes widened some more and he swallowed.  
  
"I don't take baths!" he said quickly, "I wash in the rain! Nice fresh rain!"  
  
"Oh come on," Quatre said as he dragged Duo through the door and into a different room. Pale blue tiles covered every surface and a deep porcelain tub sat in the back of the small room. Still holding on to the smaller boy's wrist, Quatre turned a tap and hot water flowed into the tub.  
  
Duo wrenched himself away at the sight of the water and slammed into Wufei who had just come in the door with a pile of fluffy white towels. The towels flew everywhere and, annoyed, Wufei grabbed Duo, pinning his arms while Duo kicked and yelled. Quatre managed to pull the shorts down and off of his legs. Wufei lifted him easily over the edge of the tub and into the steaming water, lightly scented with bath salts.  
  
All three of the boys froze when they sensed a fourth presence at the door. At once, their heads turned in the direction of the presence and froze once again.  
  
Heero stood in the doorway, dark against the extra light streaming through, still dressed in his nightclothes.  
  
"Quiet." With the one word, he turned away and disappeared into his room.  
  
Quieter than mice, Wufei and Quatre scurried around picking up the towels and cleaning up puddles; while Duo sat forlornly in the tub, huddling around himself in a tangle of scrawny limbs and hot water. When the room had been righted, Quatre turned back towards Duo with a cloth and soap in his hand and a smile on his face. Duo huddled against the side of the tub and hid his face in his knees, which were drawn up against his chest.  
  
Wufei leaned against the doorframe and glared at Duo, who shrank away from the glare. Quatre sighed and turned towards Wufei.  
  
"You!" he hissed as quietly as he could, threatening the tan-skinned boy with the bar of soap, "Get out of here! You're making him nervous!"  
  
Wufei smirked, "Good." He unfolded himself from his casual position and levered himself away from the wall. Duo turned towards Wufei as he left. Wufei stumbled when he saw the violet orbs, caught in the deep maelstrom of emotion and color, before Duo lowered his head, braid coiled on his shoulders to keep from getting it in the water. Quatre shut the door after Wufei and approached Duo once again.  
  
"See? Baths aren't that bad." The blonde's voice was comforting, but Duo shivered in the hot water, and stared into the clear depths. The sight of the Prince had shocked him. He had never seen anyone with such dead eyes, such dead emotionless eyes in a fully living body. Not even Father Maxwell's corpse compared to Heero. And he had never seen anyone so beautiful and frightening all at once. It made Duo want to run away in fear, with the figurative tail between his legs. He huddled against himself, barely feeling Quatre wash him from head to toe. But then Quatre tried to untie the tatty ribbon that held his braid together.  
  
Duo whipped around, sending dirty water everywhere. He clutched his braid protectively against his chest, sending Quatre death glares without blinking and scuttling to the far end of the tub.  
  
Quatre sat still for a minute in semi-shock before he recognized the situation. He smiled. Judging on what he heard from Relena when she came to stalk-er, see Heero, Milliardo was the same way about his hair.  
  
"Duo," he called softly, "Please come back, I'm not going to hurt your hair. I just want to wash it." He beamed happiness at Duo. Duo glared at him once more before slowly inching closer to Quatre. The blonde slowly laid hands on the braid. Duo closed his eyes in fear. . . but only felt a slight tugging on the end of his braid.  
  
Quatre worried at the ribbon, a crease of concentration forming between his eyes. The ribbon was knotted in all manner of ways. Evidently it had been there for quite a while. His talented fingers finally got it undone. He tossed the tatty ribbon into the nearby wastebasket and took on the task of untangling the mane of chestnut locks. It took well over an hour to work through the ragged mass.  
  
Then, when he was struggling with a particularly large snarl, Quatre's fingers found something that was definitely not hair. He pulled it out carefully.  
  
A grungy, brass-like cross sat in the palm of his hand. It was about as tall as his middle finger and as wide as his pinky. Duo's eyes widened, again, when he realized what Quatre had found. He made a grab for it, but Quatre held it out of Duo's reach with one hand and restrained the frantic boy with the other. He quickly tried to calm Duo down.  
  
"Duo, Duo, stop. I'll give it back, just let me clean it up first, okay?"  
  
The long-haired boy slowly subsided, and let Quatre duck the cross under the water. The blonde boy scrubbed it gently with soap and a cloth, and when he held it out of the water to admire it, it glittered like the sun. Quatre's mouth formed a small 'o'. This wasn't brass; this was gold.  
  
"Where did you get it?" Quatre asked, in awe of the golden trinket.  
  
Duo quickly snatched it back to him, stroking it lovingly with two delicate fingers. "I didn't steal it!"  
  
Quatre protested that he didn't mean it like that, and Duo explained.  
  
"Father Maxwell gave it to me. He raised me for a bit in an orphanage." His eyes were sad for a moment. Quatre turned his attention back towards Duo's hair. He made Duo duck his head under the water to get all of his hair wet, and lathered lavender shampoo over his head. He used up half a jar of the shampoo working it into the entire length of chestnut tresses and a whole new tub of water just to rinse it all out.  
  
When the ordeal was over, Quatre helped a scrubbed-pink Duo out of the tub and wrapped a towel around his waist. Holding the towel together in one hand and with his cross in the other, Duo followed Quatre out into the main room of the large suite. Rashid waited there with several parcels.  
  
"Excellent!" Quatre squealed. He grabbed the parcels and dragged Duo back into his room. The blond took the wrappers off the packages and started laying out shirts, shoes, and trousers. Then he faced Duo. "Now, we have to make you presentable to Heero when he wishes to see you. Actually, we have to make you presentable to him if he catches you in the corner of his eye, because I doubt he's going to personally ask for you." He started holding garments up to Duo's thin frame and made him try on this and try on that, and soon he had tried on every combination possible. Finally Quatre found one that suited Duo. It consisted of a black, tight-fitting shirt, and slightly baggy, black trousers. The sleeves on the shirt were sliced near the seam to reveal a good amount of bare shoulder, and then widened slightly at the end and went all the way down to his knuckles. The pants were low-slung on his hips and the shirt rode up to show off slivers of the smooth white skin on his belly. The shoes were soft, black leather indoor- boots that came up to his ankle.  
  
"Are you sure about this?" Duo pulled the shirt back down for the umpteenth time. It kept riding up.  
  
"Yes! You look great! Now about your hair," Quatre touched the towel he had slung around Duo's shoulders to keep his wet hair from making his clothes damp. Now, however, it was rather dry, with only the occasional damp spot. Duo made a grab for his hair again, fearing the worst. But Quatre only picked up a small parcel and unwrapped it, revealing several satin ribbons, a hairbrush, and a comb for styling. There were two each of black, dark purple, and midnight blue ribbons. Quatre took the brush and began working it through Duo's hair. When he finished, he weaved the chestnut tresses into a single braid, and tied the end with a purple and a black ribbon.  
  
Quatre spun Duo around to get a look at him. He frowned. "Something's missing. . ."  
  
Duo blinked and pulled his shirt back down. Quatre swatted his hand away from the offending garment. "Stop that, you'll stretch the fabric. And DON'T do that in Heero's presence. He hates fidgeting. Hey! I've got it! Your cross!"  
  
Duo tightened his grip on the golden trinket. "What about my cross?" He narrowed his eyes.  
  
Quatre waved away his suspicions with a hand and started digging through the wardrobe that was in between the two beds. "Aha!" He pulled out a square-ish wooden box. He lifted the lid and started searching through it. "Aha!" He pulled out a fine golden chain. "Give me your cross."  
  
Duo tentatively handed his cross to the blond boy, ready to snatch it back should any harm come to it. But Quatre simply put the chain through the small loop on the back of the cross and clasped it around Duo's neck. Duo lifted it up a little and examined the chain.  
  
"Are you sure, Quatre? It looks expensive. . ."  
  
Quatre smiled and put his hand on the box. "Don't worry about it Duo, I have plenty like that." He waved his other hand to show that it was nothing. After all, he did come from a noble family.  
  
~`~  
  
*Another boring day in the life of Prince Heero,* Heero sighed. At least he didn't have to wear full formal panoply.  
  
Heero dressed himself simply, in dark gray trousers and a fuzzy black turtleneck. He loosened the collar and raked his fingers through his hair. He buckled his chunky leather boots. The expensive new timepiece, so named 'clock', on his mantle said the time was just before noon.  
  
When he exited his bedchamber, a page shyly came forward and handed him a note. It read: Dearest Son, I would very much be pleased if you would lunch with me on this fine day. Meet me in my private conservatory as soon as you wake. You may bring Quatre along if you wish.  
  
When he finished looking the note over, he noticed some movement out of the corner of his eye. His head swerved to face it. Quatre was entering the main room with the whore in tow.  
  
The whore cleaned up nice. He was no longer a dirty stick figure, he was a clean stick figure. *He has a nice shape, though. . .* His eyes lingered over the boy's hips, and then over the sliver of delicately pale skin that showed when his shirt rode up. Heero jerked his eyes away and to the left, to where Wufei was watching him closely. The dark-haired boy looked away angrily when he met Heero's eyes.  
  
"Quatre, Father's invited us for lunch. Do you want to go?" Heero turned to face Quatre again.  
  
"Do you want me to?"  
  
"Hn." Heero crossed his arms.  
  
"Then I think I'll stay here with Duo, help him adjust to his new surroundings." *And make sure Wufei doesn't kill him,* Quatre added in thought. He had seen Heero's eyes on Duo, but he had also seen Wufei's reaction to seeing it.  
  
Duo turned to give Quatre a look of gratitude and flipped his braid over his shoulder.  
  
"So his name is Duo." Heero once more regarded the boy, his eyes following the silky braid.  
  
"Sure is!" Duo chirped, stroking his braid tenderly. Then he seemed to realize that he shouldn't have spoken. Wufei slammed his foot on Duo's shoulders, forcing him close to the floor, nearly mashing his face in it. "Hey! Watch it there! You could have broken my nose, buddy!"  
  
*At least THEN you wouldn't have been so damned pretty!* Wufei tried successfully to keep his anger in check. "Impertinent cheek, maybe now you'll learn to be a little more polite!"  
  
Duo was about to speak up again, but another voice broke in first.  
  
"Wufei."  
  
Wufei looked up, met Heero's eyes, and relented. He took his foot off of Duo and fell back a few steps, glowering. Heero knelt down by Duo, and lifted his chin with a finger.  
  
"You're awfully uppity for a slave." Heero gazed into the violet-blue orbs. They blinked innocently at him.  
  
"Old habits die hard."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Well, I wasn't always a slave. There was a lady with a big smile and big purple-blue eyes, then Sister Helen and Father Maxwell," Duo grasped his braid and cross subconsciously, "I remember a fire," he waved his arms in the air for added effect, "WHOOSH! And then someone told me I belonged to Jandan. That's really all I can remember."  
  
"Hn." Heero stood up. "Wufei, come." Heero left the room with his bodyguard trailing behind.  
  
They stalked down the halls, Wufei three paces behind Heero. Finally, they made it to Treize's private quarters. Heero stalked in without walking and took the first door on the left. It led to his father's private conservatory, where only the most elite of his guests and their entourage were allowed. Heero didn't particularly care for the room himself. It was too neat and clean; it looked barely lived in. Treize was already there, reading some letter from an old friend. Wufei bowed and then backed respectfully into a corner and kept his eyes down. Heero took the only other seat across from his father.  
  
Treize rang a small silver bell, creating a tinkling sound. A young slave, so marked by the brand on her left hand, gender unknown, entered the room bearing a tray. Slices of breads, meats, and cheeses rested on a platter. Two glasses and a bottle of vintage wine sat next to it. Heero's father glanced at the label on the bottle and nodded in satisfaction before serving himself. He nodded again at the slave and he/she bowed their way out of the room, leaving them in solitude. Heero ignored the liquor and weighed a piece of turkey in his hand before slapping it onto a piece of rye bread. Eating the make-shift half-sandwich, he eyed his father.  
  
"What?" Treize asked innocently.  
  
"You didn't ask me here just to enjoy my company." Heero nibbled on a piece of aged cheese with blue mold running through it.  
  
Treize grinned. "Did you enjoy yourself last night?"  
  
"Father, you know I don't like balls." Heero sighed, exasperated. His father never caught on to that fact.  
  
Treize's grin grew wider. "I wasn't talking about the ball."  
  
Heero glared at the man opposite him. "What do you think you were doing, sending him to my bed like that?"  
  
"I figured you could use some entertainment in your life."  
  
Heero leaned back in his chair and covered his eyes with one hand. "Faaaatheer!" he growled, "That's almost worse than when you tried to 'borrow' Wufei for a few nights!" Wufei turned bright red, remembering the scene quite well. Treize left his seat and walked to him. Putting a hand between the tan-skinned boy's shoulder blades, he pushed him forward, and then stood behind him.  
  
"You have to admit, he's a prime specimen. I'm very surprised you didn't make him your Pet."  
  
Wufei's blush grew much brighter, so much so that it was painful to look at, when Treize's hand wandered from his upper back to his hip, where it rested, the fingers twitching ever so slightly.  
  
Heero sighed again. "Father, let him go."  
  
Treize wrapped one arm around Wufei's waist, conveniently letting his thumb rub the boy's stomach through his dark blue tank, 'accidentally' brushing his hand against his thigh. The hand on Wufei's hip slid slowly lower.  
  
Wufei shivered. With his eyes, he begged Heero to help him.  
  
Heero rose to his feet. "Father! I told you to let him go!"  
  
"And I asked you if I could borrow him for a few nights!" Treize snapped.  
  
"He's mine! You gifted him to me, if you want him so bad you should have thought of that fifteen years ago!"  
  
"Just one night!"  
  
"No, Father! He's my bodyguard, not some whore; I need him in top form." Heero glared at his father. He walked over, his body language giving off waves of confidence, and jerked Wufei out of his father's grasp. He shoved the poor boy towards the door, causing him to trip slightly.  
  
"Wufei, go. I'll see you at the suit."  
  
The tan-skinned boy tried to protest, but Heero cut him off.  
  
"Don't worry about me; I can handle a five minute walk by myself."  
  
Wufei nodded and headed out the door at a run. Heero turned towards Treize.  
  
"Father, that was inexcusable."  
  
Treize shrugged. "I can't help myself."  
  
"That's not an excuse. What would Mother say?" Heero continued to glare at his father.  
  
"Your mother's dead; she can't say anything."  
  
Heero growled and turned towards the table. How dare Treize disrespect Heero's mother! He gathered a few slices of roasted duck and a soft white cheese studded with pecans in a napkin and stood up straight, facing his father.  
  
"What about the other slave? The new one, you know the whore? Are you going to keep him? Because if you're not, I'll take him off your hands. . ."  
  
"No Father, I'm keeping him," Heero growled. He didn't want anybody to be taken advantage of by his father. "He'll be my Pet, something pretty for the guests to look at." *And nothing more.*  
  
He left the room and stalked back down the halls to his private suite. Entering the door, he saw Wufei sitting in his corner, sitting on one leg with the other drawn up against his chest. Heero approached him.  
  
"I offer my deepest apologies, Wufei," Heero said gruffly, offering the small packet of duck and cheese, an irresistible treat for the other boy, "I didn't think he'd actually try anything in my presence."  
  
The smaller boy nodded and accepted the treat, eating it carefully, savoring the tangy duck and soft cheese. "Thank you, Master."  
  
Heero turned around, and spotted Duo leaning over the back of the couch, his chin resting in his hands, watching him interact with the other slave.  
  
He shouldn't have been watching. He should have at least turned his head away when Heero saw him. But he stared into Heero's eyes instead, curiously, innocently. Heero walked over to him. Duo continued to gaze at him, tilting his head slightly to keep the eye contact.  
  
Heero should have punished him. He should have hit him, backhanded him, whipped him, anything for his insolence.  
  
But he didn't.  
  
"Hn." Heero walked away into his room, closing the door tightly behind him.  
  
Duo stayed on the couch, still watching Heero's door absently, his mind already wandering away from the encounter.  
  
He didn't notice Wufei watching him angrily, a cold glint settling into his eyes.  
  
*Damn whore!*  
  
~`~  
  
I know I know! Wufei was a wuss in this one. We all know that if Treize had tried that in real life he would have gotten one hell of an ass- whooping. But you see, Treize is the king, so if Wufei had done anything, even in self-defense, he would have been tried for treason and executed and we can't have that now, can we? Not when I have much angst planned for him *evil laughter*. I'm so evil to them. Anyway, even if he wouldn't have been tried for treason he's a slave and has to obey everybody above him. So there. 


End file.
